


Having A Lot of Dough [Kyoya Ootori x Original Female Character]

by Little_black_sheep



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Cat and Mouse, College AU, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Runaway, Slow Burn, University, reader is a baker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_black_sheep/pseuds/Little_black_sheep
Summary: A runaway heiress turned baker runs into a profit-minded scion who only cares about bringing said lady back home and receiving his award for doing so. But is that all he really is in for? Or is there something more to this beautiful and ambitious woman? A game of cat and mouse rarely happens in the kitchen, after all.
Relationships: Fujioka Haruhi/Suoh Tamaki, Ootori Kyouya & Reader, Ootori Kyouya/Original Female Character(s), Ootori Kyouya/Reader
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

Kyoya Ootori and Céleste Beauregard had a lot in common with one another, the most important similarity was that both of them had a lot of dough.

Celeste and Kyoya both grew up around their helpers, tutors, chefs, and guards. The two possessed superior intelligence which helped landing them slots in prestigious colleges. They are children not destined to carry on the family business, but they still act on the will of their families for the sake of reputation. 

One of them thought that enough was enough and ran away from their family; leaving the comforts of her luxurious prison she used to call her home. Starting a new life with her own patisserie in another country. But little did she know, her parents urgently needed her back for reasons undisclosed. It was just by fate that Kyoya stumbled upon the missing scioness and took it upon himself to return her back home.

Kyoya was only supposed to taste her dish in order to find out what ingredients are in Celeste's plan for freedom. Enough nibbles to discover the true meaning behind her intentions and then use that knowledge to his advantage. Instead, he ended up loving the flavors a bit too much. Celeste noticed that he was too immersed into her world and decided to abruptly take her dish away, which only left him wanting more.


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rude awakenings and surprising discoveries. Familiar faces and new acquaintances?

‘I never understood why Tamaki and the others were so insistent on all of us having our winter break in New York.’ Kyoya thought as he continued stressing about the situation he currently found himself in. School was taxing, but continuing to deal with family business matters over the Christmas holiday was even more bothersome. As Kyoya looked around the spacious penthouse apartment of his, he looked at the big minimalist clock hanging on the wall.

‘Great, it’s three in the morning. I wonder how much time I have left for rest before the group drags me to another number one attraction here in this city.’ He scornfully drags his hands through his disheveled hair.

The answer to Kyoya’s question was that he’d only be getting four hours of sleep before someone knocks obnoxiously on his door. A muffled doorbell ringing into his dark cave called a bedroom. ‘I’ve gotten quite used to his early annoyances, but somehow Tamaki’s ways impact me similarly as they did even several years ago.’

Refusing to get up, he crawled even deeper into the heavy covers of his bed. The doors click open and a loud voice echoed “Get up, Mother!! We have the world to see this beautiful morning!” A tall blonde says while waltzing into the room and tugging the covers off of the sleeping corpse.

Rising like the dead, Kyoya’s aura was emanating throughout the room and it did not faze Tamaki anymore. Keeping a overly sweet smile on his face, the blonde dragged the tired boy to his bathroom which was connected to a walk-in closet.

After getting ready, Kyoya trudged out of his room and into the living room seeing the morning devil himself and, his girlfriend from high school, Haruhi. 

He yawned and plopped down onto his sofa opening his black pocket planner and phone. ‘I already accomplished the tasks needed for today last night to accommodate this fool’s antics.’ He realized this as he saw his list of tasks already crossed out and checked out.

“Today, my fellow explorers, we will be visiting the best bakery in New York City. It is not a coincidence that this establishment is French because my country does have the best pastries in the world!” Tamaki says propping his foot onto my coffee table trying to mimic Napoleon’s pose that is seen in many portraits.

Haruhi rolls her eyes at her beau’s nationalism and fleeted her gaze onto the close to snoozing boy on the couch’s farthest seat. She pitied how overworked this boy was at his young age, so hopefully this series of outings may give him a little more excitement in his life. She stands up from her seat and recommends to the pair of men in the room that they should leave already.

“How perceptive of you, Haruhi! This place does run out of goods quite quickly due to the overwhelming demand. We must hasten our paces!” Tamaki says grabbing his best friend’s and lover’s hand while leading them out of the apartment.

The wintery air bit the trio as they stepped out of their luxury vehicle and into the already crowded patisserie. Haruhi thankfully found a vacant couch for them to sit on and offered to reserve the seats while the two of them ordered their food at the counter.

‘This place is quite luxurious especially for an establishment that caters to all walks of life in this part of the city.’ Kyoya thought as he scanned the lovingly prepared pastries and interior of the bakery. He was thoroughly impressed with the movement of noise and the amazing ambience of the place, having had experience with restaurant layouts due to his previous involvement in the host club. His blonde friend took a tray and started piling on treat after treat.

Kyoya was not fond of sweetness, but he was very fond of spiciness and heat. He eyed a chilli chocolate muffin and pointed at it and sent a look towards his friend who happily chose two of the delicious looking muffins. Looking around more, the bespectacled boy obtained a spiced apple pie and walked with his friend to the line in front of the counter. His gaze stayed on the chalkboard menu and an expensive cured ham croissant sandwich caught his eye. He noted to order that as he looked towards his taller friend who was happily holding an overflowing tray of yummy pastries.

As the pair got closer to the front of the line, Kyoya had more to observe as he noticed the beautifully designed and alighted display case filled with the more high-end french sweets and some savory pieces. The warm lighting enhanced the glow of the people’s faces since everyone looked happy to finally be availing of their products.

His brown eyes observed the countertops, baroque themed shelves, golden hanging lights, pillars of white marble, and finally the brown carved kitchen door that showed a sliver of the clean and busy kitchen. On the kitchen counter laid flaky cookies shaped into hearts, Kyoya realized that they were palmier cookies and saw their golden brown crackly texture even from afar. He was about to ask Tamaki if he had gotten any palmier cookies, but even before he could ask his friend, a baker appeared into the kitchen door’s view.

She had long taupe hair curling softly against her back as an expensive silk scarf held it together. Her green top hugged her shape as the apron she wore only covered her thin waist and below. A long golden necklace laid on her well-blessed chest and her slim wrist brushed away a lock of hair that blocked me from seeing her side profile.

A nicely shaped nose came into view as a smile on her dark pink plump lips graced his vision. Her beautiful bejeweled emerald eyes gazed upon the cookies as she grabbed them one by one and half-dipped them into a vat of melted chocolate. She bent down to grab a metal cooling rack from her station which granted him the chance to view more of her figure. A bountiful figure seeped through the back of her apron covered by a pair of black slacks. ‘This woman is quite beautiful. She looks more European than American though.’ He thought as he quickly glanced around himself to see if anyone else caught a glimpse of her or caught him slightly creepily looking at her. Kyoya was not surprised to see a handful of people in line peering at her lovingly. She seemed to be a well-known figure in this establishment since everyone looked like they knew who she was.

Prying his eyes away from her, Kyoya tried to focus on other things like what other baked treats the place offered, but suddenly he could no longer fine tune his thoughts as he hears the kitchen door creak open and sees the same woman, now without an apron, walk out with a large tray of palmier cookies and tongs. Her stride was full of confidence and as she moved gracefully from behind the counter to the aisles fully knowing that gazes have been set upon her. She smiles at the queue and nods when someone in the line said ‘Morning, Celeste!’

“She must be Celeste, the owner of this fine patisserie! You know, Kyoya, celeste in French means ‘heavenly’!” Tamaki said while also looking at the woman, and then wiggling an eyebrow in Kyoya’s direction. Scoffing, Kyoya turns away from his friend and looks at the opposite direction of the baker and is surprised to find a mirror hanging on the wall. In its reflection, he can see the woman arrange the cookies neatly and carefully. 

She was totally in her element until a small young girl tugged at her slacks while drooling at the sight of cookies. Celeste giggled at the toddler who was trying to reach for a cookie, so she levelled herself with the baby girl while talking and cooing at her a bit, tapping lightly at the nose of the child, before wrapping a piece of parchment around the treat and handing it to her. The toddler smiled and kissed her on the cheek before running back to her mother who waved at the chef before settling her child onto her hip as she exited. 

Celeste kept her eyes set on the mother and daughter and looked as if she longed for that type of affection. Her eyes then turned to the golden chain that was hidden beneath her sleeve and it had a single charm in a shape that Kyoya could not examine from afar. 

The curious boy turned to look at the baker, in hope to get a clearer view of her peculiarly familiar piece of jewellery, but he found himself at the front of the line with his friend’s voice interrupting his thoughts.

After ordering his special request sandwich, he slightly glances towards Celeste who was inching her way back into the kitchen. Kyoya then looks at the cashier and asks “By the way, what is the name of the owner of this bakery? I would like to give her my compliments for how nicely built this establishment is.”

Nonchalance was evident in his tone, but his eyes held a different look of interest. Jill caught onto this slight emotion, and continued to ring up the items while judging the man’s character. “Celeste, that’s her name.” She said politely but quietly, smiling at the two men. “Would you know her surname too? I am French and I would love to know if she hails from the same as I do!” Tamaki says while posing glamorously and bringing out his wallet.

“She is from France, but we never disclose her and our full names to customers. It’s for privacy concerns.” She says apologetically while handing us two trays full of plates and utensils. “The other goods are to be heated first before serving, we’ll send them to your table in a little bit. Enjoy!” Hurriedly saying this while ushering the next costumer in line forward.

“It was odd how she slightly panicked at the thought of telling us the name of her boss.” Kyoya pointed out as he held the tray following Tamaki’s lead towards the seats Haruhi reserved for them. “Commoners are like that, Kyoya. They could be easily scammed if they give too much of their information out into the world!” Tamaki defends as he put the tray down onto the table and nuzzled into his girlfriend’s form. Kyoya doing the same but slowly sitting down with a hand fixing his glasses.

“You could be right, but surely being the owner of the most famous bakery in New York is bound to make you an icon in the baking industry. Her name must be out there somewhere online.” Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, Kyoya searches the web for the owner’s name but only lands on her first name. He then searched for pictures of the bakery and the chefs but nothing but the treats and customers’ posts come out on his feed. Images of their faces and of the place were nowhere to be found, it was as if their bakery was not famous at all. ‘Had they only relied on word of mouth? Was their advertising plan not focused on social media platforms?’ He was utterly confused and wanted to take a picture of this place to reverse image search the establishment, but he was stopped from doing so by a waitress.

“Hello, sir, but photo-taking is prohibited in this establishment.”

“I am sorry, I wanted to take a picture of the ambience and rate it well on any of your social media platforms. This establishment does have one at least, right?” Kyoya questions the girl while nitpicking at her reaction to the question. She was obviously new here because she hesitated to respond not really knowing the answer either.

“Ms. Celeste opened this establishment only four years ago and aims to make it an enjoyable local bakery. Open for everyone to enjoy, but especially for the ones who live nearby and in the city. We found out about this place by word-of-mouth, so we don’t rely on advertising.” Cuts in another waitress who saw her colleague struggling with forming an answer and heard the question while passing by the table.

“Yes, and we would like to keep our bakery secrets to ourselves. So, please refrain from taking pictures of the staff and bakery. Thank you so much.” The first waitress speaks slowly and nervously while nodding respectfully at the boy, and the other waitress doing the same but just more confidently before both of them turn away from him and separate from each other, off to different tables.

‘Secrets, huh?’ The bespectacled boy thought as he pocketed his device and turned to look at his friends. “Kyoya, was that really necessary? You totally intimidated them.” Haruhi berated him while digging into her macarons. ‘It was necessary, I do not feel comfortable staying in an establishment that is so closed off and yet so open to the world. It is unsettling.’ He thought but did not voice out, instead the black haired man smiled fakely at her and apologized.

Biting into his sandwich, he was totally amazed by the taste that he almost forgot about his suspicions. ‘They may be hiding something, but this sandwich does not hide any flavors at all.’


	3. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Baker's Early Routine and Interrupted Breakfast

The flour on my hands somehow places itself on my face, without me noticing, and I suddenly find my young brunette fellow pastry chef laughing at me. Her tinkling giggles reach my ears and my greenish-golden eyes send her a questioning glance.

“What’s so funny, Devon?” I cock my eyebrow at her, rolling the dough onto itself creating more and more layers of butter. My thick and silky ash blonde baby hair tickling me since it began trying to escape from my scarf knot.

“You’re so cute, trying on makeup at work.” She says adjusting her specs and gesturing to your powder laced cheeks and nose. Her twin sister, Divine, who was also an enthusiastic baker, giggled at her sister’s quip. ‘I never use makeup, the stuff makes my face feel heavy.’ Thinking to myself as I finish my task in the mean time. I wouldn’t want these to melt.

I take one last look at her and then stare at my reflection in the metal pan that I have yet to grease.

My rosy apple cheeks are dusted over and my nose suffering the same fate. Some flecks of flour landed in my dark blonde eyebrows and fluttered along with my long curled lashes. My silk scarf too turned a little dusty as its Hermes golden pattern became dotted with white. Groaning to myself, I turn back to the dough and finish making the croissants.

“This is what happens when someone doesn’t handle the flour bags too gently while I inspect the inventory.” Turning my head to point at Cole who was in charge of the ingredients and baguettes. At the age of 46, he still had a lot of strength in him and his baker’s touch made baguettes rise up and sing.

“Those bags were too light, my guns crushed into them too hard today, I guess.” Cole replies haughtily, shrugging off my comment and lining the baguettes up in the baker’s oven. 

“Oh boy, he’s got that flour power again.” I huff placing the croissants into a different oven and pressing the kitchen timer with a well-manicured nail. I go to the sink and washed my buttery and floury hands thoroughly. Taking my apron and scarf off, I go into the bathroom to wash my face and fix my hairdo. 

After finishing up with a loose low wavy ponytail and a clean face, I walk back into the kitchen feeling famished having smelled the butter bubbling in the oven. “Does anyone want a sandwich or something from the deli down the street?”

Devon, Divine, and Cole shake their heads at me, the trio being smart enough to eat a heavy breakfast before coming to work at four in the morning to make the first rolls of the day.

“If I’m gone for too long, please take my croissants out to cool!” I say while layering a beige trench coat over my emerald skintight turtleneck top and black high-waisted leather jeans. My suede boots’ heels clack along the tile as my fingers check my coat pockets securing my phone and wallet before I exit the backdoor into the secure and clean alleyway heading towards Bianca’s.

Winter was here and the air turns colder each passing day. I was, though, accustomed to the chill after living in Europe for most of my life. Having multiple Christmas cabin homes in the French and Swiss Alps gave me and my family memorable holiday memories. 

I cross the empty street and enter the quaint Italian deli with a little bell chiming at my entrance.

“Heya, we still closed here, buddy! Can’t ya read the signs?” Screamed Joe with an angry Italian accent hanging onto each word as his back faced me since he was busy fixing the neon sign by his menu board. Joe or Giuseppe, as he was known by those closest to him, was an old fashioned Italian man who owned Bianca’s and made mean sandwiches.

“You’d make an exception for me, Giuseppe!” He turns around surprised and greets me with a lopsided smile. “A muffuletta in the morning, such is your style, bella.” He replies to me in Italian. Finally being able to flip the switch and watching the neon sign saying ‘Bianca’s’ light up.

I sit in front of the window table’s ledge and gaze into the streets, seeing the street lamps die as the morning sun rises. Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my coat, noticing that the deli’s heater had yet to be turned on.

“How’s the family, Giuseppe?” I speak in his native tongue, arching my back to stretch out the kinks. “I swear the grandchildren’s tuition fees keep doubling. Their deadbeat father just wants to play music while my daughter is working a nine to five in a firm!”

“Education is important, no? Can’t stand how people use schools to gain profit.” Clenching my jaw after sharing my thoughts. “But, Giuseppe, don’t stress too much! Let Giovanni chase his dreams, this world needs more dreamers.”

“Yeah, stop being so optimistic, it’s too early for your sunshine.” Giuseppe monotonously replied while walking towards me and handing me my wrapped sandwich. 

I leave five one hundred dollar bills in his hand and consequently stand up from my chair to push it neatly under the ledge. “Bella, no! It’s embarrassing, you’re younger and you own a business just as I do!” I shook my head at him “Please, it’ll give me peace of mind.”

“You’re too kind, bella. Please, take care always. Just for you, I’ll let Giovanni play a song for the family tonight.” He says while grasping my two hands in his warm fatherly grasp. My eyes watering a little at the corners, I hug his burly form and whisper “Take it easy, Giuseppe. You’re like the father I never had.”

I walked out of the shop, sandwich in hand, waving to Giuseppe goodbye. Mr. Sun streaks through the tops of the New York skyscrapers and dance around my figure, illuminating my skin and giving me a light hug of heat.

Returning to the bakery, I used the front entrance now instead to inspect my shopfront’s state. “Celéste • Boulangerie and Patisserie” shined in golden neon lights against the aged-looking wood. A “Closed” sign was still facing my way as I opened the door and entered. I checked that the little bell on the main door was tinkling just enough signifying my entrance that echoed throughout the empty patisserie. Hanging my trench coat on the coat rack beside the door, I take in the sights and smells as the warm indoor heat hugs my body.

Butter and sugar are the scents that dance around the room and I inhale them deeply. Pastry-filled and shiny golden trays line up the walls with Mondrian-esque lighting peering through the warm lamps that blend with the morning sun seeping through the clear glass windows lined with natural lacquered wood. French baroque-styled red velvet couches and beautifully carved wooden tables filled up the half the shop with the occasional small wooden tables that only seated two people. Large glass food display cases separated the cashier from the bread aisles and was lit up wonderfully.

While taking off my coat and hanging it on the coatrack, I hear a door open. Out from the employee’s room comes my main cashier and waitress, a middle aged woman named Jill. “Hey there! How’s your morning, boss?” She asks fixing up her navy blue apron and the white handkerchief tied on her head of greying black hair.

“My morning’s been swell so far, are the new waitresses coming today for their first official day?” I queried while leaning over the counter still holding my wrapped sandwich. I then walk and towards the sink on the white marble countertop, matching the gold, white, and blue of the wall, to wash my hands.

“Sam and Mary are on their way here already! They’re really excited to start. Working in the number one bakery in New York City does make you kinda jittery.” She winks at me while cleaning the table tops. I roll my eyes, and place my hand on the kitchen door which had large glass panes giving a view of the kitchen’s pastry decorating station.

I peered into the kitchen seeing the three chefs at work with my croissants sitting out to cool, after then I looked back at store front. Jill welcomes in the two new employees and guides them into the employee’s area. I flash them all a closed-eyed smile having already interviewed and met them. I sit on one of the couches and finally started eating. I was halfway through digging into my sandwich before seeing customers forming a short queue outside of the bakery.

I stretch out my thin wrist from my long sleeve and check the time. Five in the morning? I didn’t want to open up yet since it still was a little too early for my taste and the waitresses were still being briefed. But after seeing the puppy dog eyes of one of my loyal customers, I stuck my tongue out at the familiar female college student and wrapped my remaining sandwich up again to save for later. 

I walk up to the door and flip the sign to “Open” while opening the french doors wide open for the customers to come in. A few young working men, and some even women, blushed at the sight of me beckoning them to enter as one of hands held the door open for them. They all neatly get trays and tongs to use for their choosing of the treats for buying. I head behind the counter and open the authorized personnel room to tell the staff that service has started. I wash my hands again before heading to the cashier, seeing Jill already talking care of the first customer’s transaction.

I send a thankful glance towards her and in the corner of my eye I see the two new employees wearing our uniform. Slowly pacing towards them, I hug them both.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Ms. Celeste! It feels like a dream.” “We both really love your food and we can’t wait to help you.” They say hugging me back and then letting go to look at me sincerely. The two of them reminded me of myself when I made this establishment just four years ago, excitement bursting out of my heart and pouring itself into my work. Sam and Mary were new additions to our small but loving family, and I couldn’t wait to begin this new journey with them.

Holding out one hand out towards each of them, I grasp their own and felt their firm grips.

“Now, it’s time for us to seize the day, and make some dough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a baker or chef, but I am an avid watcher of cooking shows! I apologize if my knowledge about baking is wrong :(

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever story! English is my main language but it isn't my only language, so please be kind to me! Hope you enjoy the story and are staying safe and happy.


End file.
